


Blood Day Truce

by SlasherKisss



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, Blood, Blood Kink, Evan fingers the reader and fucks them on their period thats the fic, F/M, Other, Period Kink, Period Sex, Period play, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Vaginal Fingering, reader is afab but i tried to keep it kind of GN still? idk if it worked but by gOD I TRIED
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24533683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlasherKisss/pseuds/SlasherKisss
Summary: You find yourself on your period in the realm of the Entity. To make it worse you find yourself alone with Evan Macmillan, the Trapper, while you are also on your period. LUCKY for you, though, Evan seems interested enough in your predicament to offer something of a truce, so long as both of you can benefit from it.
Relationships: Evan MacMillan | The Trapper/Reader, Evan MacMillan | The Trapper/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 188





	Blood Day Truce

**Author's Note:**

> I get horrible cramps while I'm on my period (which is now) and to combat this I like to imagine having sex with the slashers I think would have fun with their s/o on their period. This may be the start of a small oneshot series? Depends on how many other killers I feel like writing for, idk. Until then EVAN.

You watched him with terrified eyes, pupils tracking his every move. His every stretch of muscle against hooked skin as he towered above you. Simply his breathing was enough to twist your gut a little more than your cramps were already doing. The Entity normally brought four of you when it was time to face a Killer. The Entity, for all its foreboding attitudes, was at least kind enough to give you warning as to when you were about to be thrust into a life or death situation. It gave you time to mentally prepare, as a group, for the slaughter that would without a doubt happen one way or another in your time out and about on the turf of a walking slaughterhouse like the Trapper. 

This time, however, you were alone. 

The Trapper shifted forward, one heavy foot in front of the other, and you scrambled back on instinct. This wasn’t a formal match, but you were still unsure if the killer thought that an excuse to miss out on torturing some prey. The way you shifted made your stomach snarl and your uterus quake your body with another gut chilling cramp. 

The soft squelch of your aching muscles pushing out some more blood against the lining of your pants echoed in the deafening silence between the two of you, causing you to whimper out in pain. Maybe letting him kill you would be easier than this. At least, for a while, you’d get to ignore the pain while the Entity worked on resummoning up your body from the depths of its sacrificial limbo. 

You shoved your back against the nearby wall, another squelch of blood sounding between your thighs and you bit back a groan of discomfort as you felt the stain between them grow. You slid down to the ground, almost in defeat, and tried to even your breathing through the fear.

The unfamiliar noises made him pause in his advancement, masked head tilting to one side in what one might almost consider a cock of curiosity. You brought your legs up to your chest, the position momentarily lessening the pain as warm pressure pulled itself against your aching abdomen. You hadn’t even realized that, through the intruding cramp, you had kept your eyes shut as tight as possible out of pure endurance. Through the darkness of your eyelids you heard each of the movements The Trapper made above you. The floorboards creaked as he moved closer, groaning louder when he leaned down. You felt his hot breath against the front of your face, rancid but familiar, and shivered. 

You dared to open your eyes, meeting the thin slits of his mask boldly but with the proper apprehension. He was down on one knee, using his cleaver to support himself in his leaning. Putting his weight on it made the weapon sink deeper and deeper into the floorboards, splitting the wood slowly underneath it. You held your breath and allowed him the closeness. So long as his weapon was buried deep into the wood, there was no chance of him being able to pull it out swiftly and without a struggle, giving you a clear chance to struggle upwards and make your way out if need be. 

His head tilted down as you let out another surprised whimper at the pain in your body. Though you couldn’t see much through the mask, you could almost feel his gaze holding onto the area between your legs. Suddenly self conscious of the embarrassing stain growing against it, you tried to delicately shift your legs so that they covered up the bloodied area more discreetly.

Suddenly The Trapper’s hand shot outwards, causing you to gasp in terror. Your heartbeat quickened and your blood ran cold as he formed his grip on one of your knees. You were ready for it. For him to rip you in half or drag you by that leg towards a hook. To saw you in half or something equally as gruesome so that the rest of your body’s blood joined in with the type already leaking from you.

Instead you felt him release his grip on his cleaver so he could put his other hand on the opposite knee and slowly pry your legs open. You tried to keep them shut, mostly out of embarrassment, but his strength wasn’t anything that you could fight against. Instead you resigned yourself to his movements, growing curious as to what exactly he was doing. 

The Trapper’s eyes lingered on the bloody pool in your jeans for a long time. The position he had you in began to grow painful and awkward as your body pumped out more blood. Reaching out, he touched his hand against your ass, using his thumb to press against the growing stain of blood. The pressure caused an audible squelch to hum through the air a second time. A warm sense of relief that shouldn’t have been there flooded your core as the pressure hit your clit, temporarily jolting your body to relieve the stress pains it was feeling. When you let your breath go from when you were holding it, it came out as a sigh of relief. 

This caused the pressure to stop and you momentarily feared that you had fucked up somehow. You had snapped him out of his fascinated reverie just long enough for him to remember that he could kill you easily. Your worries were shattered when, instead of murdering you there, he applied more pressure to your clit with his thumb, rubbing careful circles against the bloodied fabric as he did so. You felt another gasp tear its way up your throat but, this time, you bit your lip and shut your eyes tight. Just what was going on? Was this a new way he wanted to practice toying with his victims before he killed them?

Your brain argued with you, loudly proclaiming that you shouldn’t let whatever this was keep happening. That you should kick the Trapper away and run. Give him the chase you always did when you faced him. The part of your body that was running on hormones, blood, and pain, however, insisted otherwise. In a three against one vote, you felt your body accept its verdict and slowly loosen the tense way you were sitting. Your legs slackened in his hold and you let your hips push forward against his hands in the slightest of ways. 

The movement must have surprised him because no sooner had you done it did his hand stop and move away slightly, as if afraid he had hit something or done something he shouldn’t have. The loss of the sweet pressure made you whine softly in your throat. 

He pulled himself away to examine his hand, blood shimmering on his thumb from where it leaked through your jeans. The Trapper tilted his head and watched you in silence. You watched him in return, confused as to just what it was he was trying to understand. A blush leaked onto your cheeks as you realized that you just tried to grind against the hand of a killer while on your period. To be fair, you reasoned in your mind, that would require an explanation for anyone. 

“I-I’m on my period,” You choke out softly, daring not to speak above a whisper to him, “It’s heavy and hurts pretty bad, but, pressure eases it a lot….Uh, s-sorry about your finger.”

His hands were literally bloodied all the time, you realized immediately after you spoke, why on earth were you apologizing? 

There was another long moment of silence before he gave a slow nod as if in understanding. Suddenly his hands reached for you, all of you, and hoisted you upwards. You shrieked in surprise, wiggling as an immediate panic response to being heaved over someone’s shoulder again. You must have satiated his curiosity and now he was going to kill you because he didn’t actually care about why you just did that. Your headshot around, terrified that there might be a hook in the room you two were in. What if there was one in the adjacent room and he was simply toying with you before easily moving you over? Your breath came faster through the aches and squishes as you tried to free yourself from surely imminent death. 

You were shocked when you found yourself moved only a short distance. The length of the room was covered in a few easy steps thanks to his height and, with a rather unceremonious grunt, he dumped your body down onto the nearby bed. For a moment you lay there, shocked at the turn of events that seemed to transpire, before struggling to sit up. The mattress was old but soft. You found yourself sinking into every part of it as it dipped down with your weight. The springs underneath groaned further when The Trapper joined you on it, sitting down on the edge so that his legs were off of the edge, feet planted firmly on the floor below you both. 

You were picked up again, but, this time not lifted all the way. It was more like he was guiding you around now, shifting you from one part of the mattress to the other. Still confused and slightly terrified, you allowed yourself to be manhandled until you were sitting down on one of The Trapper’s knees, straddling it. Reaching out, you held onto his shoulders for purchase as you looked down from the position and up to him with confusion. To your gaze, The Trapper only tilted his head to you. You slowly realized that this wasn’t going to be a slaughter.

He was offering a temporary truce. A moment of tense parlay while the two of you waited in limbo for others to begin a true ritual. 

To emphasize, he ground his knee against you and the pressure is tantalizing sweet. After a few more experimental pushes and grinds on his accord you decide that, hell, if you’re going to die you are going to at least be able to say that you’ve done something like this with The Trapper ONCE. It’ll come in handy in ‘never have I ever’ you supposed. Your grip tightened resolutely on his shoulders before you ground down on his knee, feeling the way it pushed the wet fabric of your jeans up and against your clit. As you met each movement soft mewls of delight began to escape your lips. With every bit of pressure building in your stomach, your period pains dwindled into dying embers. 

You dared not look up at his eyes, but you felt his hands reach for your hips, gripping them tight as he brought you down harder against his leg. You ground faster, pace stuttering as you felt yourself beginning to come undone. God, you were close. You were so close, but it wasn’t enough. You craved more than just the soft release of pain. Your abdomen and uterus clenched with excitement at the possibility of a fuck. Despite knowing who it was you were grinding into, something about it made wetness mix with your blood.

Suddenly his hands gripped you all too tightly, stopping the rhythm you were building. A desperate keen escaped your lips between curses and begs to let you finish. You would have offered to let him kill you even, but, after you finished. You barely recognized the babbles and begging please that fell from your lips as you looked up, at last, into his eyes. Your expression was watery with redness and tears threatening along your cheeks.

There was a long pause in his movements, his body stone against your form as you caught the raggedness of his breaths coming through the mouth of his mask. You tried to squint further through the eye holes, the momentary safety of your truce giving you a sense of bold curiosity as you wondered just how much of Evan’s face you would be able to catch a glimpse of in the barely there light of the room. 

The result was another warning grip on your hips before you were thrown to the bed, back to resting your spine on the softness of its edges. You almost wanted to apologize, but your breath was stolen from you when you felt the dip of it again. This time, though, The Trapper towered over you with his knees on either side of your hips. His arms caged your face between their girthy tendons. You could see the bend of his muscles flex as they kept him steady. You could hear the heavy breathing that echoed over him.

“What…” You started but you trailed off, licking your lips in thought. What were you going to do? It was a bit obvious. What should I do? He wouldn’t really care about that would he?

There was no answer as his fingertips brushed down your stomach, the tips of them finding your uterus and digging into the tender flesh. He pressed down with all the fingers on one hand, the calloused thumbs of them rubbing along your jeans and making you bite your lip to stifle a moan. Seemingly displeased with the action, his free hand found your face and squeezed your cheeks painfully in his grip, causing your jaw to clatter together as he forced you to look right at him. Despite the mask covering his features, you were sure the look was a stern, communicative one somehow.

_ Don’t be quiet. _

You could only attempt at a nod in his grasp. When he was seemingly pleased with the reaction, he released your face and allowed his hand to join the other down near your jeans.

With movements far too delicate and careful for you to ever have considered someone like The Trapper to have, he undid the button of your jeans and peeled the zipper down with a satisfying ripping noise. You watched his fingertips graze the edges of your hips before holding the fabric in a firm grip and yanking harshly down. Your underwear was taken with the jeans in his movements, leaving a momentary trail of sticky blood stringing between your core and the fabric. 

The embarrassingly long trail of slick made your face heat up and you moved to cover it with your hands again. This time there was a true, feral growl somewhere deep in The Trapper’s throat as his hand rose up to grab at yours with impatient frustration, squeezing your wrists together with a bruising hold before slamming them over your head and into the soft mattress, bending you so that you arched your back to him as he pressed further. His anger had risen and it was clear why, and you still couldn’t help the whimper and struggle you briefly put up with a huff in his face.

“I’m sorry,” You muttered as you averted your gaze glaringly, “I - uh - h-haven’t exactly DONE this with anyone before, especially not one of YOU- “ You put an emphasizing roll of spite onto the ‘you’ as you gestured with your head to his entire form - “I don’t know what to expect.”

This seemed to give him pause as he tilted his head, thinking about your words before somehow deciding that he didn’t care, his grip still hard on your wrists as he moved himself again, his body shifting against yours and his thighs brushing along your own as his free hand reached downwards to touch at your bleeding hole.

Deft fingers slid in easily with the amount of lubrication from both your blood and the previous wetness of having ground so needily along his thigh. Two entered you with ease and the thickness of them stretched you more than you had been in so long. You felt full, stuffed to the brim with his shifting digits as you let the moan of surprise fall from your lips and your head bend backwards into the mattress. Your hips arched themselves upwards, greedy for more of his touch, and you swore that you could hear a cocky chuff of laughter echo from behind that smug mask of his. 

He scissored his fingers inside of you, watching your lips spread against his movements and coat the entirety of his hands and the mattress with thick streams of blood. He could feel your walls contract around him from time to time, pushing more of your sickeningly sweet blood out and creating trails of dribbles along his palm and wrists. You took each finger easily up to the knuckle as he forced his hand in and out of you at a tortuously methodical pace.He edged you with careful planning, tilting his head this way and that to get a better view of your blushing, open-mouthed face as he fucked you at such a sensitive moment. During such a peaked sensation. 

Your hips moved on his fingertips again, demanding and needy as you gasped.

“Come onnnn,” You whined up at him with a shift of your head, “Y-You’re such a -ngh- fucking tease… Will you- can you just-!”

Your face turned red as the words threatened to spill from your mouth. This only seemed to make The Trapper’s hands slow down even more, scissoring carefully and leaning in closer to your face. His breath washed over your nose, too hot for your already warm body, and you bit your lip to stop yourself from tasting it as you moaned. HIs thumb reached up to barely brush against your bloody clit and a third finger danced in a deliberation on if he should give you what you wanted, making you keen more as you stared upwards.

From here you could see his eyes, though not much of them. They were narrowed and sharp as they gazed into your own, a deep brown that glowed crimson in the right light as he stared. 

When he opened his mouth it surprised you. It wasn’t that you didn’t think The Trapper couldn’t speak, but having never heard his voice even in a trial made the noise that pulled itself from his lips, dark and heavy and deep in his throat, something of an amazingly unique sound to grace your ears. Even if the one word he whispered made them turn red:

**_“Beg.”_ **

You were tempted to protest. To wiggle and demand more in the most bratty tone you could be able to get out, just to spite the killer, but then he pushed a firmer pressure to your clit and made you keen in delight before quickly removing it with a gruff, sadistic laugh. He wouldn’t give you this without getting his way and, bit by bit, you could feel your pride slipping away as you tried to shift your legs more beneath him.

“P-Please,” You gasped out softly, “God - fuck - please! I don’t know what else to say, please, please, please j-just finger me already! Fuck me, I don’t care just please please- ah-!”

It was apparently enough for him. Without warning the bending digits in your aching cunt pistoned back and forth with incredible power. Each time they left your legs there was a sick, squelching noise as your body tried to keep hold of him with its bloodied grasp, and the same noise echoed as he slid them back in and crooked his fingers in just the right spot in the center of your nerves. 

He was fucking you with his fingers in earnest now, each thrust and squealch sending a fresh wave of blood down your body and against the edges of the mattress to the point where you could feel it stain your thighs and ass the longer you wallowed in it. In the moment, with a building orgasm of hot, sweet pleasure you couldn’t really bring yourself to care as The Trapper watched your brows furrow and your lip catch itself in your teeth as you concentrated on bringing your orgasm crashing over you. When he sensed you were close he slowly freed your now bruised hands, allowing them to scramble and claw and whatever they were able to reach, first the mattress and then his arms as you clung to the killer for dear live.

You came with a gasp, moaning as your legs clamped themselves over his hand and kept his deliciously thick fingers inside of you, milking yourself down on him with all of your efforts. The spill of slick cum and blood pushed from your body with little reserve as to what a mess it was making and Evan sat back to watch your entire form contract greedily around his fingertips. 

The moments it took you to come down from your high were a blissful thing, no cramps edging you against your period as you caught your breath. Looking up, you were just vigilant enough to watch the Trapper bring his hands up to the light of the room and examine the mess you had made on it. Each of his fingers was coated in sticky blood, chunks of uterine tissue clinging to his fingernails and some dribbling down his palm and wrist as he shifted each fingertip for a better look. You felt yourself grow sick with embarrassment over the fact that you had just had an insanely bloody orgasm over the hands of a man who had killed you more than once at the Entity’s request.

Maybe it was best not to think about that right now.

Not that you were able to, for in the next moment you witnessed The Trapper reach down to the edge of his mask with his clean hand and pull it upwards. It was just enough to reveal his lower half of his face, the chiseled jaw littered with ashen scars across dark, stained skin and full lips. He brought his fingers to his mouth and opened wide, bringing his large, broad tongue across each digit with a slow, methodical lick. He looked as though he was tasting some sort of wine, identifying the taste carefully as he slurped it from the edges of his knuckles and between the stretch of skin against each finger. You were hypnotized as he brought his mouth down and licked a trail from his wrist to his knuckle, cleaning up the leftover blood trails that followed suit. 

With a final lick of his lips he brought his mask down against his face and watched your reaction in turn. Your mouth had gone dry and your body was trembling, the center of your stomach already building up with more wetness at the actions you had witnessed. Why was this turning you on? Something about it didn’t seem fair, but, one quick gaze down his body to the prominent tent in the edges of his overalls brought you the satisfaction of knowing that you weren’t the only one. 

The silence was heavy. You could hear every creak in the floorboards and settling wood around you as you shifted your legs, wincing at the sound of the sheets beneath you, and licked your lips. 

“You know um… The more orgasms I have… the less pain I get.” You whispered suggestively, your confidence fading as you furrowed your brows, “Wait you like pain though don’t you? So I guess less orgasms would be better if that was the case. L-Look all I’m saying is that bodies are weird right! No that’s not what I’m saying at all I’m really just- FUCK-”

The curse fell from your lips as he startled you by reaching down, pushing your shirt up and over your head before grabbing your face to open your mouth wide with his fingertips. You could taste the light flavor of your cum and blood on each digit, making you screw your face up into one of annoyance before he shoved your shirt into your mouth, the strip hanging like a poorly fit handkerchief gag against your mouth. The fabric soaked up your saliva and made you gaze up in shocked confusion at the killer. 

**_“You talk too much.”_ ** Was the only cheeky response you got before he adjusted himself with a heavy grunt. 

You sat there, gagged and paralyzed as you watched him stand. As you watched him undo the straps of his overalls with slow efficiency, moving each piece of clothing down his body to reveal a taught, muscular back. The hooks in his skin glittered dangerously alongside his scars, dancing down the massive muscles of his shoulders and spine until they faded into the smooth curve of his ass. You swallowed around the gag as his outfit fully fell to the floor with a solid ‘thunk’ of its overly metal parts hitting the fragile wood before he turned to you, mask and boots still on as he tilted his head.

The Trapper’s cock was larger than you were expecting it to be and the mere sight of it made you wet again. You thanked God or the Entity or whatever hell monster was watching over you that your blood made you extra slick and receptive, otherwise it would have scared you more to have it anywhere near your body.

To be fair, you were already pretty terrified. This WAS the Trapper after all. 

You expected him to lean over you again. To tower over you form as he took you with an intense, greedy sort of hunger you had come to understand that these killers felt. It left you surprised and slightly frustrated when, instead, he lifted your body up as though you weighed nothing to him and replaced it with his own form, sitting you down on his lap instead. Your shirt still clung tight to the skin in your mouth, drying your tongue out as you hissed around it with muffled frustrations. They stuttered and stopped, however, when you felt the hard head of his cock throbbing along the edge of your ass. You squeaked, your legs trying to squeeze together as you felt another dribble of blood fall from yourself, pooling along his abdomen and dripping down his hips.

The movement of your blood seemed to draw a moan from the man beneath you as a large hand came down and slapped at your ass, stinging the tender flesh with a red handprint that made you yelp and squirm more. More blood pooled as a result and it only seemed to rile the Trapper up more, his chuckle deep and baritone in his chest as he let you squirm against him, your hands reaching out to put themselves on his chest as you glared with a teary eyed huff at him. At least he couldn’t make you beg with your words now. 

Curiously you reached up to tug at the shirt in your lips. You response from him was a fierce growl and another smack to your ass, making you drop your hands and whimper around the fabric again as, without warning, he lifted you up and plunged your blood soaked cunt down his dick.

Despite your lubrication your body stretched to accommodate him, the head of his cock warm and throbbing as it sunk deep into your throbbing pussy. Your yell devolved into a moan of contentment and, as you gushed one more time around his dick, The Trapper let out the loudest noise you had heard from him to date. A strangled cry that masked a moan as he leaned forward and put his head into your shoulder, his fingertips gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he reveled in the feeling of you around him. Of your bloodstained walls swallowing him and dripping down his thighs, staining his skin further along its cracks and scars. 

There was no further warning other than that brief moment of residual revelation before he lifted you upwards, the tip of his cock just barely still inside of you, before slamming down again. You gasped, wiggling on his lap as he set a brutal pace with near desperate immediacy. The feeling of him filling you was overwhelming and you could smell the coppery scent of your blood mixed with your slick as you let him pull you like a cock sleeve. He was so thick. So long and just so - so perfectly what you needed that your cramps had long since fallen into the background of your mind. 

It was all you could do to reach out your hands and cling to his broad shoulders, tugging at one of the hooks embedded in his skin without thinking about it. The Trapper responded with a growl, deep and sharp in his throat as you did so, and picked his pace up with an even more feral animosity. Every thrust all but hit your cervix, sending stars to blot your vision as you ran your nails down one of his shoulders, leaving a series of welting scratches in its wake. Your own mark for him in return for the ones you’d have on your hips and ass, surely. 

There was only the sound of the two of you rutting into one another. The disgusting squelch - smack - squelch - smack - squelch that signaled your desperation and his command as he reached upwards to grab your neck and squeezed with a tight, firm hand against the softness of your flesh.

The sudden lack of oxygen left you reeling, your head sparking with warning bells and pleasure all at the same time as he continued to push you up and down on his cock. Your fingertips rose up to touch at the wrist holding you around the neck, feeling the intensity of his pulse beneath his calloused flesh as you choked for air, your vision fading into black between the attempts to moan from the pleasure and the inability to gather the air to do so. Was this how you were going to die? Choked by a killer as he used your body like a cocksleeve? Your mind teased between the hazes that, hey, there were definitely worse ways to go.

Just as you felt the suffocation overtaking you, his grip released you ever so slightly. It allowed air into your windpipe for the briefest of moments before clamping mercilessly down again. You knew you’d have matching bruises to your ass along your neck. It’d be fun to explain those, certainly. 

It wasn’t something you were worried about at the moment. Not as your body began to careen towards the sweet precipice of a second orgasm and your mind hissed with blank, needy hunger as you bit down hard on your t-shirt, whimpering as tears formed in your eyes and fell down your face with the overstimulation of his hands and cock. Your hand reached away from his own and down your body, finding your clit and gently stroking where his cock met your cunt, feeling him slide in and out and feeling the messy blood of your period slobber itself upon your fingertips as you went to rub your clit with desire. 

His hand suddenly left your neck, freeing you up from the bruising grasp of his choking, and proceeded to swat your hand away from your clit. It caused a noisy whine form around your gag, but soon it was replaced with pleasure as his thumb found the small bud and began to rub it in tandem with his intense thrusts, each one growing more and more sporadic as his cock seemed to grow to fill every edge of your cunt. You could feel its heat throbbing into you, the sign of his oncoming orgasm as obvious as the grunts and growls in his voice.

There was little warning before you came, a loud and keening noise that made you arch your back and help him to drive deeper into your hungry core. You felt a series of muscles contract to gush out more blood atop him, pooling an impressive amount beneath you both that only aided in the echo of his hips hitting yours as you collapsed down onto his chest in a heaving mess of exhaustion and bliss.

There were a few more violent thrusts into your abused pussy before The Trapper stilled within you, coming with a long groan that shook his entire chest and sent a shiver down your spine as you felt his hot seed pulse unceremoniously inside of you. He held you against him, fucking you slow through his own orgasm until his hips came to a halt and he stilled inside of you with ragged, gasping breaths. 

Silence overcame the small room once again and you could feel the obnoxious amount of liquid between your thighs, making you wince as you dared look back at the mess you had made. Sure enough, both you and Evan were littered with spots of thick red blood from your thighs down. It had soaked into a decent third of the mattress at this point, dying the white edges red and mixing with the strings of pink semen mixed with your blood that dribbled from your abused hole. You shuddered at the sight and felt your hands clench against the Trapper’s muscular form. 

Your needs satiated and your cramps abide for the time, you felt the sudden fog of a heavy sleep rolling over your entire body. You looked upwards at the Trapper for a moment, brows knit in confusion as you stared at him with a curious gaze. His eyes remained that same shade of crimson brown behind the holes of his mask as he watched you back, his breath already returning to its even, unreadable state. The bastard and his good stamina…

A hand reached up to remove the gag from your lips. Your dry mouth heaved for sweet fresh air between it. He took a hold of your neck again, thumb fondly rubbing at your bottom lip with something of a rough adoration before you felt your eyes droop fully and your mind faded into a distant darkness, his breathing a lullaby for you to sleep away the rest of your pains.

\---

You awoke to a fresh wave of cramps, gnarly and rude in their twisting of your uterus, and you groaned as you sat up to clutch your stomach with annoyance. Dizzy with the pain, you pushed yourself forward a bit to find your bearings, the memories of the previous night flooding back to you in a panic of realization. Heat rose in your cheeks at the thought of the Trapper and you scrambled to look around you, biting your lip in terror as you gazed at your surroundings.

You were back at the camp with your fellow survivors, clothing neatly in place and uterus still pumping out unnecessarily impressive amounts of blood much to your chagrin. You found yourself missing the blissful sleep you had gotten after the orgasm, regardless of who had brought it to you or not. You exhaled and tried to soothe the ache with a rub of your fingertips as you curled into a ball and suppressed a smirk.

You wondered if the Trapper would ever be up for another truce again?

Maybe you should go find out. 


End file.
